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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
29.35 m
Wingspan
14.8 m
Weight
8146.91 kg
Genetics
Seafoam
Petals
Petals
Lavender
Butterfly
Butterfly
Rose
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Imperial
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
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Blodau
Advisor 
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 B I O G R A P H Y
The Imperial sat quietly in the Star Pavilion. This was his quiet spot, far above the village. The little gazebo was open on three sides, its ceiling painted with eight-pointed stars by a hand long lost to time. The wind whispered and soughed around him, bending the sea of green grass. Far away, he heard waves crashing, and could smell the sea. He was far older than he looked. Unlike his namesake—the flowers that bloomed and died within years—he had lived through three hostile takeovers of the Heavenwing Eyrie. Philosophically, he considered that the Eyrie had it coming. The people within had been peaceful scholars who eschewed a military in place of higher learning. Blodau was no scholar, but he had grown to accept the need for armed forces. It was a bit of bad to prevent more of it. Once more, he lifted his gaze. It was hard to see anything of import from this high up. Below was a colorful carpet of maple leaves, tossed by chill autumn winds. Those who had to leave Heavenwing Eyrie could never restart their lives. The place lived on and on within their hearts, burning for them to return. It was up to him to help. He got to his tired legs and sighed heavily, then left to find Lilac. II. It wasn’t just that he was a go-between for two kingdoms who hated one another with a burning passion. It was that he had friends in both. Both Lilac and Steele counted him as an advisor and confidante, something that never failed to make him feel dishonest. He could understand Steele the Second’s concerns. The workers were dying out without having bred. Armed rebellion had killed most of his forces. He lacked the willpower to keep on going. It was when Steele II voiced these concerns—in the palace, over vanilla rice wine—that Blodau knew it was possible to get Heavenwing back. It was time. If only he played it right. He started by subtly suggesting that the Eyrie was subject to natural ruler cycles, just like Sornieth was ruled by certain seasons. When one dragon’s time came to an end, the next began. And so forth. Steele II didn’t care for that theory, so Blodau tried something different. In order for economic prosperity to continue, Steele II should open up a free market, let travelers visit. Steele didn’t like that, either. At last, sighing deeply, he played his trump card. He removed a portrait of Princess Lilac—a small, watercolor painting on a strip of bamboo—from his back pocket. That gave Steele II pause. “That’s who would fight me?” 
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B I O G R A P H Y
“She won’t fight you,” Blodau said hastily. “She wants to communicate.” The way a tiger wants to communicate with lunch. “She told you this?” Steele’s eyes narrowed. Blodau saw it all click into place. “So that’s where you always are.” “Well, you don’t always need an advisor around, o great one.” Blodau bowed. “I can advise more than one tribe.” “With the end goal of your…own goal.” Steele spat. “That came out a bit awkwardly.” Blodau smiled, but said nothing. Inside, he was thinking of his best friend, Wren, one of the slaves. He was thinking of heartsick Lilac. He wanted badly to reach across the table and throttle Steele II, but knew… He knew that force upon more force wouldn’t change things. Instead, life should be dealt with by a delicate touch. Build bridges; grow flowers. Not burn more things down. At last Steele shook his head. Warning bells went off in Blodau’s mind at once. He was agreeing far too easily. “Send her in.” “A peaceful transfer of power?” Blodau asked. Steele II waved his paws. “Of course.” IV. But that was ancient history, now. Now Steele was imprisoned somewhere following an attempt on Lilac’s life. Now Heavenwing was growing again, flourishing, as old huts were knocked down and revived with beautiful structures. Wren and Lilac’s hatchlings loved to run around Blodau’s legs, nipping at his ankles. Even when he went to sit in one of the pavilions on the large green hills and meditate… How long will peace last this time? Bio byCaelyn
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Bio template by @Mibella, find it here.
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